Remembering
by serenitysea
Summary: Four years later, everyone's life has been changed. Some more than others. Find out what's going on in their lives now.
1. Reese::Helena

Remembering  
  
PG-13  
  
Serenity Sea  
  
(Serenity_Sea@yahoo.com)  
  
Author's notes: Just a thought I had the other day, while thinking of how my BoP series is sort of dragging along. I figured, well, I've already got open too many stories to handle, so why don't I just. . . start another one?!! And so I did.  
  
SUMMARY: Some things get easier with time. Some don't. Reese/Helena.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Detective Reese was a good cop.  
  
No, scratch that.  
  
Detective Reese was a *great* cop.  
  
. . . Would *exceptional* be going too far?  
  
Whatever. He was a *insert word of choice here* cop because he drew the line between his personal and business lives. He reserved his judgment-for the most part-until he had at least *half* of his facts straight and at least partially verified. Which was more than could be said for some of the people he worked with in the precinct.  
  
Of course, having an Oracle on hand wasn't always a bad card to pull when things looked like they were at a dead end. Add in a telepath/kinetic who was always willing to help, and one vengeance-hungry (and admittedly delicious looking) girlfriend, and, well, you get the idea.  
  
So, in addition to being fantastic at his job, Jesse Reese had friends in high places-no pun intended-and used them (and vis versa) at will. This strengthened his credibility as a detective (the being great at his job, not the "friends in high places") and gained him the respect of most.  
  
But sometimes, that wasn't worth a damn.  
  
Sometimes, it just came down to plain, simple, instinct.  
  
And he had pretty good instincts.  
  
* * *  
  
She looked like an ivory statue, not that she would have cared to know it. Leaning against the thin (and probably not fire-safe) railing, hair mussed adorably from sleep, eyes slowly adjusting to the night, Helena Kyle was thinking. And for someone like Helena Kyle, this wasn't always a good thing.  
  
In fact, thinking led to bad things. Actually, bad thoughts. And bad thoughts led to drinking. We all know what goes on from there.  
  
But this night, this woman, even this railing; this is a different Helena Kyle then the one we know. Two years can make a world of difference. And they did.  
  
So as she leaned on the rail, not concerned at all by the fact that she could be tumbling to her untimely demise should she lean too heavily, with her eyes alert and body tightly controlled and ready to spring at will, she thought. She thought of the journey she'd taken to get here, the route's many twists and turns, and the losses she'd suffered. The things she'd gained unfortunately did not outweigh the sadnesses she'd endured, and it was something that never failed to escape her.  
  
But it occurred to her, at precisely 2:47AM on a unassuming Wednesday, that she was happy.  
  
Which was a feat in itself.  
  
"Hey."  
  
A big warm hand on her shoulder. She would have known who it was if she'd undergone amnesia and had been planted in Siberia. They were that close.  
  
She didn't turn around. "I didn't mean to wake you up." Slightly apologetic, though knowing that he truly didn't mind.  
  
Helena allowed herself to shift so she was resting on him and let her hands skim the railing. His skimmed her shoulders until they came to rest on her waist.  
  
"It was time for me to get up, anyway." She heard the grin in his voice and a wisp of a smile played on her lips.  
  
"You don't say," Helena murmured, elbowing him lightly.  
  
They stood like that for a while, just letting the moonlight play on their skin, comfortable enough with the other that words didn't need to be added to the silent conversation.  
  
"So." He sighed slowly, and she moved slightly as a result. "Couldn't sleep?"  
  
Helena moved her shoulders restlessly. "More like didn't want to."  
  
Reese's brow rose. After living with her for nearly two and half years, and knowing her mannerisms even longer, he knew a thing or two about Miss Helena Kyle. And one thing she *loved* was her sleep. "Is that so." He shifted her in his arms until she was turned and looking at him. "And why is that?"  
  
She swallowed gently and ran her hands up his arms, finally settling to look in his eyes. "Today. My mom."  
  
His eyes went soft with emotion and he hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay, it's just. . . I usually can't sleep this time of year."  
  
He noted that she had been particularly restless for the past few days. "Anything I can do?"  
  
Helena shook her head. "You're already doing it." He brushed back some of her hair-it had grown out a bit, and she was forever complaining about it, though he knew she secretly loved having longer hair and would have done it sooner were it not for her (ahem) line of work-and she sighed contentedly. "She would have liked you."  
  
A compliment of immense proportions. "Really. What makes you think so?"  
  
"She always liked dangerous men."  
  
"I'm *dangerous*?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Reese, you're a cop."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"A cop who's not too big on conversation this evening," she frowned lightly.  
  
"Hey, I just came out here to listen."  
  
Helena kissed his nose teasingly. "Just to listen?"  
  
"Well. . . "  
  
He touched his lips to her temple and squeezed her briefly. "I would have liked. . . to have met her."  
  
She smiled. "Me too."  
  
They stood for a bit longer until Helena grumbled about being tired and cold, and Reese knew she still, even after their time spent together, had trouble dealing after opening up to him. He fought back a smile and drew her back into their apartment, to the warmth of their bed and made sure she'd fallen into a deep sleep before allowing himself to nod off.  
  
As the sun finally began its slow ascent, a lone black cat walked across the balcony railing, then jumped to the street below. It looked back up at the apartment and twitched its nose once. Then it slunk away into the darkness.  
  
* * *  
  
If the response to this is good, I'd do either a sequel, or another part, having the first bit of it be from Helena's point of view. Or, sort of a four-part series, following the three birds and the detective. Let me know what you think! And check out my other BoP stories while you're at it! 


	2. Dinah::Reese

REMEMBERING | Part Two |  
  
| | Author's notes: Here is part two. I'm afraid to get back into Body Double and the Trust series before I feel pretty solid in BoP-verse. So, think of this as a writing exercise you all get to participate in.  
  
| | Summary: Four years later, everyone's life has been changed. Some more than others. Find out what's going on in their lives now.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dinah Lance was a good field operative.  
  
No, scratch that.  
  
Dinah Lance was a *great* operative.  
  
But before you all get feelings of déjà vu, that is where the common narrative ends.  
  
She had taken up her mother's mantle and was quite adept at successfully completing her missions. She'd even learned how to correctly aim a batarang.  
  
All you had to do was aim two and half inches to the *left* of the target. Dead center, every time.  
  
Of course, being a meta, with powers that were as unpredictable as hers, meant that even at the age of 20, she still had to spend an hour and a half in the training room every day. Collage professors didn't quite understand how she could have escrima-stick shaped bruises and yet no paper on why Catherine loved Heathcliffe. Sometimes, she had problems with it herself.  
  
For a mentor, Barbara wasn't getting much older. In fact, she was getting a hell of a lot better.  
  
Though, with Helena's semi-active duty, she was working her a lot harder. Dinah was slowly beginning to appreciate her mentor, and her mother, much more than she'd thought possible. The fact that they'd gone through the same exact thing--her mother had to deal with a three-year old, Barbara a father in the Law enforcement occupation--made it that much more important.  
  
Of course, being a skilled telepath didn't hurt. If she wanted to, she could always just "grasp" the answers to the test out of her teachers. Not that she did, but she could. The option was still there.  
  
These days, she could do three things and keep up a friendly banter with the criminals she was apprehending. Helena would be proud. Why, just last night, she'd had one guy hovering in the air, his partner pinned against a wall, and when the third had snuck up on her from behind? She'd promptly dispatched that threat with a solid mental overload.  
  
He landed at her feet.  
  
So yeah, life was good.  
  
* * *  
  
He found her outside, on the balcony. The apartment was older then the two of them combined and she stubbornly insisted on keeping it. Said it was worth her time. That she'd invested too much in it to let it go.  
  
"Hey." He rested his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"I didn't mean to wake you up." She didn't sound incredibly sorry, but that was because they both knew she didn't have anything to be truly sorry for.  
  
Reese waited her out while she decided to turn around and face him. He ran his hands down her shoulders and rested them on her waist. Of course, she didn't know that every time she breathed the wrong way, he woke out of a sound sleep. She didn't know she was the reason he went into work some mornings with bags under his eyes.  
  
It was nice to know that there were a few things he could keep from her. "It was time for me to get up, anyway."  
  
"You don't say," she softly replied, elbowing him playfully.  
  
It was comfortable to stay in each other's presence, trusting that the rickety balcony would hold them  
  
"So." Reese exhaled gradually, and she shifted. "Couldn't sleep?"  
  
She shrugged and he felt her barely leashed power moving under his hands. "More like didn't want to."  
  
His brow rose. After living with her for nearly two and half years, and knowing her mannerisms even longer, he knew a thing or two about Miss Helena Selene Kyle. And sleep? She *loved* it. "Is that so." He turned her in his arms until she was looking at him. "And why is that?"  
  
She swallowed gently and ran her hands up his arms, finally settling to look in his eyes. "Today. My mom."  
  
And just like that, something from her past came up and socked him in the gut. Feeling horribly inadequate, he drew her close. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay, it's just. I usually can't sleep this time of year."  
  
"Anything I can do?"  
  
Helena shook her head. "You're already doing it." He brushed back some of her hair, running his fingers through the longer strands in the back. Ever since she'd grown it out, he loved doing this, had almost an unnatural attachment to her and--apparently--her hair, and she all but purred like a cat. "She would have liked you."  
  
Some people would make blanket statements like that, trying to ease the awkwardness. With them, nothing was awkward any more. He'd seen her at her worst, she at his, and they were intertwined in a way some people could only hope to achieve. So there was a lot more to this than met the eye. "Really. What makes you think so?"  
  
"She always liked dangerous men."  
  
That threw him. "I'm *dangerous*?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Reese, you're a cop."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"A cop who's not too big on conversation this evening," she frowned, and his hand moved to automatically smooth out her worry-lines.  
  
A cop who's a bit more interested in reading you this evening, was more like it. "Hey, I just came out here to listen."  
  
She kissed him on the nose playfully. "Just to listen?"  
  
"Well."  
  
Reese kissed the side of her head and gave her a quick, reassuring squeeze. "I would have liked. to have met her."  
  
She smiled. "Me too."  
  
They stood out for a little while until she complained about being sleepy and practically frozen. He knew that after everything they'd been through, opening up didn't come naturally and she was two steps away from being hyper-embarrassed. Some people would be annoyed by that fact, but it was just another one of the little quirks that made Helena tick. It was cute. He fought not to smile as they got resettled into bed, and made sure she was sleeping deeply before closing his eyes.  
  
Maybe he wouldn't go in with dark circles under his eyes this morning, after all.  
  
* * *  
  
Okay, so there's part two. Basically, the way this is laid out, you get insight into the person's life in the first part, and then dialogue in the second part. Helena, Barbara and Gibson will probably end what will be a 5- part grouping.  
  
Let me know what you think-if it was okay, if it needed work-if it just wasn't even worth it. 


End file.
